


with regards

by nautilics



Series: SASO 2017 Fills [10]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 19:13:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11996196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nautilics/pseuds/nautilics
Summary: Atsumu brandishes his own birthday card in front of Osamu's face, neatly handwritten message and all. “Thisis a courtesy.That,”he nods to the tastefully embellished card lying in front of them on Osamu's bed, “is something else.”





	with regards

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SASO 2017 Bonus Round 5: Clue | Originally posted [here](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/24808.html?thread=14836712#cmt14836712).

“It's nothing.”

Atsumu gives him a Look. “Come _on,_ you're not an idiot. It's obviously something.”

“No, it's not. It's just a courtesy.” 

Atsumu brandishes his own birthday card in front of Osamu's face, neatly handwritten message and all. “ _This_ is a courtesy. _That,”_ he nods to the tastefully embellished card lying in front of them on Osamu's bed, “is something else.”

Without really thinking about it, Osamu reaches to pick up the card and turn it in his hands, as he’s done so multiple times since Kita had handed it to him after training earlier that day. He'd done so with a smile pressed in the corner of his lips, his fingers brushing minutely against Osamu's as he'd passed over the envelope. The creamy paper stock is smooth and firm under his touch, with an embossed silver pattern that twines across the edges. It's soothing to run his fingers across it. It feels expensive. It doesn't mean anything special.

Osamu flips open the card to the message, again. “He wrote the exact same thing in both of our cards, ‘Tsumu.”

Atsumu _sighs_ , and shoves his card next to Osamu's. The two are almost identical, save for the black trimming on Atsumu's in place of the silver. “Happy birthday Miya,” he reads out, overly enunciating each syllable. “May the year ahead be filled with success and joy. Regards, Kita.”

He turns to stare meaningfully at Osamu's card, and he doesn't have to read it aloud for Osamu to know what he means. The characters have been gleaming in front of his eyes for hours now, each stroke elegantly laid down, evident even in the mundane medium of a ballpoint pen; two of them, where there's only one on Atsumu's:

_Regards,_

_Shinsuke_

Osamu closes the card. “Kita-san probably wasn't thinking and signed off differently on accident,” he says, even though it's laughable to put ‘Kita’ and ‘wasn't thinking’ in the same sentence as each other, and Atsumu's face tells him the same. “Anyway, so what if it was on purpose?”

“‘Samu.” 

Osamu closes his eyes. He's long past the point of believing that things will go away if you ignore them, but the look—bordering on pity—that Atsumu is giving him is more than he wants to face at this moment.

A weight leans against his side, Atsumu's head dropping to rest on his shoulder. “If this is about...y'know, me...” He trails off, because they both remember first year, when Atsumu had spent half his time working to be a starter, and the other half at rapt, eager attention whenever Kita was within hearing distance.

A year ago, Atsumu would have tripped over his own feet to have received a birthday card from Kita, and Osamu would have never heard the end of it.

Osamu sighs, because Atsumu _is_ trying to help, and drops his head against his twin's. “Not everything has to do with you, ‘Tsumu.” 

“Prove it,” Atsumu mutters, but Osamu can feel him relax. He opens his eyes, gaze falling again onto the card. Atsumu reaches out and brings it closer, opening to the message.

“Kita-san’s trying,” Atsumu says. He runs his fingers over the words, and holds the card out to Osamu. _Maybe you should too,_ go the unspoken words. 

The silver edges gleam, and after a moment, Osamu takes it into his hands.


End file.
